What a pair. Double D’s. Poking up at me like twin peaks. Pam Anderson, eat your heart out.
Too bad they’re attached to a fourteen-year-old boy.
Prologue: The Face in the Ceiling by Anthony Youn, M.D. (an excerpt of In Stitches)
August 2011: Editor’s Notes
It’s hard to believe we’re on our fourth issue! It’s been eight months since we launched our website and, soon, we’ll be a year old! Well, we won’t rush that. One issue at a time…
Searching by Angela Fan
I am amused by the chattering of my new classmates. The way they speak seems so precise, so different and so harsh. American English, I think, is weird. Chinese is so much better.
Real Unreal Things by Andrew David King
I was fourteen, and the rose was perfect. I’d engineered an equally perfect plan for the major opportunity my freshman-year Sadie Hawkins dance presented: one of the most admired girls in class had asked me—me?— to go with her. Over MySpace, sure, and we hardly spoke
Join us: Writer and editor positions available at Hippocampus
Hippocampus Magazine is growing its (volunteer) staff. If you love creative nonfiction and have some time to devote to this new, online literary magazine, consider joining our team. We can’t pay you. But, we will shower you with much affection and appreciation, something even the guys and gals who make the big bucks don’t often…
Contest for Creative Nonfiction Judges Announced
Hippocampus Magazine is proud to announce our guest judges for the Remember in November Contest for Creative Nonfiction. Our four judges bring with them to this competition more than a century of collective literary and publishing experience spanning genres and professions.
Holy Tribunal by Jane Hammons
When I open the envelope containing a notice from the Diocese of Oakland that my EX of several years has petitioned for a Declaration of Invalidity, my first reaction is to laugh and toss the paperwork into the recycling bin. But the words toll like solemn bells throughout the day. Ecclesitasticum, Ajudication, Decree of Constitution. In the grip of the language as I had been some twenty years ago when I made the mistake of converting to Catholicism, I retrieve the paperwork.
Parting by Rachel Cann
He ordered a scotch and then broke the news that his appeal for a new trial had been denied. We were in the lounge of the Thunderbird Hotel in Miami, the baby upstairs in the room, asleep. “Twelve years. The judge threw the book at me. I did my best to charm him, but it didn’t do any good.” They’d used everything they could against him, including the time during the Depression when, at the age of five, he’d rapped another kid in the mouth with his shoe-shining kit for taking over his corner.
1977 by Peter DeMarco
The bathroom of the 7-Up plant in the Bronx is an artist’s canvas for pornographic drawings. A giant penis, balls with hair, vaginas, large-lettered dirty language. A perverse form of hieroglyphics. This new, raw world is a wonderment, far away from green suburbia.
Big Brother by Noriko Nakada
She shows us a photo of a boy and tells us he is from Korea and will be our new brother. He’s standing on a wooden swing, clinging to a rope. He’s looking right into the camera, but the person taking the picture forgot to tell him to smile.
